Hero
by SingularityStar
Summary: What happens when your childhood hero becomes your real life best friend? A collection of one-shots that trace Ron and Harry's friendship as Ron discovers what it really means to be a hero.
1. Bedtime Story

Exhausted, Arthur Weasley slumped against the wall outside of his youngest son's room. It had been one of those nights that he questioned the wisdom of having so many children. Not seriously, of course, he loved his large, chaotic family and wouldn't trade any one of them for all the galleons in Gringotts. Still…

Molly's voice broke into his thoughts. She sounded stressed. "How about _Babbity-Rabbity_? You love _Babbity-Rabbity_." With a sigh, Arthur forced a smile onto his face and poked his head around the doorway in time to see his four year old son, Ron shaking his head resolutely.

"No. I wanna new story."

Molly sighed as she smoothed the blanket over her youngest son. "Ronnie, I don't know any new stories and its way past your bedtime. Can't we just read one of the old ones for tonight?"

Ron crossed his scrawny arms and shook his head again. "No. I wanna new story."

"Please sweetheart," Molly pleaded. "Mummy is too tired tonight. If you'll just go to sleep, I'll have a brand new story for you tomorrow."

Ron continued to shake his head. "No, no, no, no, no!"

At that moment, Arthur decided to make his presence known. "Problem, love?"

Molly looked at him in exasperation. "Ronald would like to hear a new story tonight, but I'm fresh out."

Arthur crossed the room towards his wife and kissed her gently atop the head. "Well, I finally got Percy calmed down and tucked into bed. His hair is back to normal, by the way. I'm still not sure how Fred and George managed that. Ginny somehow slept through the whole thing, and Fred and George are doing an excellent job of feigning sleep themselves, so why don't I take over here?"

"That would be wonderful, dear," she replied gratefully, moving over so Arthur could settle himself on the bed next to her. "Now Ronnie, just one story, and then its off to sleep for you," she admonished. Ron nodded eagerly as he pulled the covers up to his chin and turned his attention to his father.

"So, what kind of new story would you like to hear?" Arthur asked, realizing too late that he had no idea what story to tell his son.

"A good one," Ron replied. "One with a good guy who beats a bad guy and with a little boy like me."

Arthur thought for a moment, wracking his brain for anything that might fit those characteristics. He supposed that he could always just make the story up as he went along. Ron was only four after all and didn't seem to much care if the stories he heard made any sort of sense, but after spending the last hour attempting to calm a hysterical Percy, whose hair had somehow been turned an obnoxious shade of green, he didn't think he had the energy to make up even a terrible story. He glanced over at Molly, but she appeared to be dozing against the wall. No surprise, really. She had spent the last hour chasing down the twins and trying wrangle them into the bath, all the while trying to work out how exactly they had turned their brother's hair green. _Just another boring night at the Burrow,_ he thought to himself. _Now, let's see…a story about a little boy beating a bad guy…_ A grin slowly spread across Arthur's face as an idea took hold.

"I know just the story, Ronnie," he leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially. "It's a special story because it really happened. It's about a little boy named Harry Potter…"

Molly's eyes flung open. "Arthur…" she started, a warning tone in her voice.

"The abridged version of course, Molly dear," Arthur responded quickly. As she opened her mouth to respond, a loud crash sounded from downstairs.

"Fred and George," she sighed rolling her eyes and climbing heavily to her feet. "All right Arthur. You finish the story and I'll go check on the twins. A _very_ abridged version if you please." She kissed him lightly before bending over to do the same for Ron. He reached his tiny freckled arms around her neck and kissed her wetly on the cheek.

After she had left the room, Ron turned his attention back to his father. Arthur smiled at him and tucked the blankets back around his son. "All right then, Harry Potter, the abridged version," he began.

"Daddy, I don't want to hear a story about a bridge."

"No, no, not 'a bridge,' 'abridged.' It means…well, it means bedtime story for Ron," Arthur responded with a chuckle. "So here we go: Harry Potter – The bedtime story for Ron version." Ron settled back on his pillow, apparently satisfied, so Arthur continued. "Once upon a time, before you were born, there was a very very bad man. He was so bad and so scary that everyone was too afraid to even say his name. Instead, they just called him 'You-Know-Who.' Well, You-Know-Who thought that only wizards should be allowed to be happy, so he was very mean to all of the Muggles and all of the wizards who liked Muggles."

"Like you, Daddy?" Ron interrupted, his eyes wide.

Arthur smiled, "Yes, like me and your mum, because we know that Muggles are just as good as witches and wizards, right Ronnie?" Ron nodded fervently and Arthur patted his head affectionately before continuing. "Well, You-Know-Who thought that wizards and witches should be in charge of the Muggles, and some other wizards and witches started to think that he was right. So soon there was lots of fighting and You-Know Who was making it so lots of people on the good side had to go away. It was very scary. All the good people kept fighting as hard as they could, but You-Know-Who was winning." Ron gasped and his eyes went wide. He pulled the covers up to his eyes. Arthur smiled and laid a hand comfortingly on his son's leg. "Then, one day, You-Know-Who decided to go after a little boy named Harry Potter. So he went to Harry's house on Halloween night. He hurt Harry's mum and dad and made them go away, but when he tried to hurt Harry, KABOOM!" Arthur yelled, tickling Ron until he squealed with laughter.

"But, what happened, Daddy?" Ron asked, once he had stopped giggling.

"Well, instead of hurting Harry and making him go away, the spell bounced off and hit You-Know-Who, making HIM go away. Little Harry had defeated You-Know-Who, and now he was gone forever and Harry and everyone else could live happily ever after. The end."

Ron frowned, "But what happened to Harry since his mum and dad went away? Did they come back?"

Arthur frowned, as well. He didn't have an answer to that. In fact, it wasn't even a question he had ever considered before. He made a mental note to ask Molly. "Well, no Ronnie. His mum and dad can't come back, but Harry was taken somewhere that he could be safe and grow up to be a happy, healthy little boy just like you." He figured that must be the truth, or close enough to it. Certainly Harry's parents had made arrangements in case something happened to them, or if not, there were most certainly a large number of families who would line up to take care of the boy who lived.

Ron smiled. "That's a good story," he said with a yawn, breaking Arthur away from his thoughts. "Harry's a hero."

"That's right, Ronnie. He beat the bad guy, so we can all be safe and happy. Now, it's time for bed." He leaned over and planted a kiss firmly on Ron's forehead. "G'night, Ronnie."

"Night, Dad," Ron mumbled, closing his eyes and curling up to fall asleep. Arthur crossed the room and flipped off the light switch. As he was pulling the door closed, he heard a tiny voice, "Daddy? Do you think I'll ever get to meet Harry Potter?"

Arthur smiled and pulled the door closed all but a crack, "Someday, Ronnie. Someday."


	2. Childhood Games

"Now I've got you!" Fred called out as he and George cornered an eight year old Ron near the broomshed. "You won't escape me this time."

"Any final words?" George added as he and Fred both aimed long pieces of wood directly at Ron's face.

"Actually, yes," Ron answered as he triumphantly pulled a wooden stick out of his own back pocket. "_Stupefy_!" He yelled. Both Fred and George froze in place and Ron pushed his way past them, laughing joyfully at his victory. When he was a good distance away, he called back over his shoulder, "You'll never catch me, You-Know-Who! I'm Harry Potter, the boy who lived!"

Fred and George simultaneously unfroze and rolled their eyes. "All right, can we finally play something else now?" Fred asked, tossing his makeshift wand on the ground.

"Yeah," agreed George, "there are only so many times I can handle playing 'Harry Potter beats You-Know-Who.' Especially because we know it couldn't have happened like that. Harry was just a baby, Ron. There's no way he pulled out a wand and yelled '_Stupefy_.'"

"Come on, George," Fred interrupted. "Let's just go find something else to do." With that, the twins scampered off together, leaving Ron standing alone in the middle of the yard, a lopsided lightning bolt drawn on his forehead and an ordinary twig clenched in his fist.

Ron sank glumly to the grass and began to use his makeshift wand to dig in the dirt. Of course he knew that Harry had only been a baby when he beat You-Know-Who. He knew the story better than anyone, having made his parents tell it to him so many times over the past four years. It was just more exciting to play it this way. He didn't understand why Fred and George didn't want to play Harry Potter with him. It was the best game he knew. Harry was a hero, a real one, not like one of the characters in the Bard's tales.

Ron wished he had a twin brother, or at least a brother closer to his age who would play with him. Bill, Charlie, and Percy were all off at Hogwarts, playing Quidditch and learning to use real wands. They hadn't played with Ron in years anyway. Bill and Charlie as the oldest spent a lot of their time together. They were too old to be interested in the kind of games that Ron liked, though Bill had taught Ron to play chess last summer. Percy mostly kept to himself, staying in his room with his books. Fred and George were naturally paired off, which left him with just Ginny for company, but what good were sisters really? No, what he needed was another brother. Suddenly an idea popped into his head. It was perfect! He didn't know how he had never thought of it before. He leapt to his feet, throwing his stick to the side and ran into the Burrow to find his mother.

"Mum!" he called happily as he found her in the kitchen preparing lunch.

"Yes Ron, dear?" she answered, not even glancing at him as she continued her cooking.

"You and dad said that Harry Potter is my age, right?" Molly murmured her assent, used to the constant barrage of Harry Potter related questions her youngest son so often had for her, "And his parent's died?" Ron continued.

Molly put her wand down and turned to her youngest son. Her eyes settled upon the lightning bolt he had drawn on his forehead and she smiled slightly. "What is this all about?"

"Well, I just thought that since Harry Potter doesn't have any parents anymore, maybe he could come and live here with us! You and Dad could be his parents. You're really good at it. I'd even let him share my room and everything!"

Molly stared at him for a moment, an indecipherable look upon her face, then she swept him into a tight embrace. "That is so sweet, Ronnie," she smiled as she released him. Ron looked at her strangely; he could have sworn that he saw tears brimming in her eyes. "I love you for suggesting it, but I'm sure that Harry is well taken care of, wherever he is. He doesn't need us. Professor Dumbledore was in charge of making arrangements, so I'm sure that wherever Harry is, he's happy, loved, and safe."

Ron's face fell as he stepped away from his mother. It wasn't fair. It was such a great idea.

Molly pulled him into another hug. "Don't worry, Ronnie. You and Harry are just about the same age. That means that the two of you will almost certainly start at Hogwarts together. I'm sure you'll get to meet him then."

Ron brightened at once and smiled up at his mum. It wasn't quite as good as having Harry for a brother, but as Ron ran off to play, images of him and Harry becoming best friends at Hogwarts danced through his mind.


	3. On the Platform

Ron nervously shifted from foot to foot as he watched his older brothers cross through the barrier to Platform 9 ¾. He couldn't wait to get through himself and start looking for Harry Potter. The twins had been teasing him endlessly for weeks, but he didn't care. He was finally going to meet his hero.

His eyes were darting back and forth when a scrawny boy with black hair, glasses, and oversized Muggle clothes approached them, asking for help with getting onto the platform. The boy seemed as nervous as Ron did, so Ron gave him his best attempt at a smile, though he felt like he was going to be sick from the combination of excitement and apprehension. Closing his eyes, Ron steeled his nerves and followed the other boy through the barrier. This was it. Harry Potter himself would be on the other side of this barrier, and Ron was determined to meet him.

As he exited out the other side, Ron did his best to scan the crowd, but it was hard to see much of anything with the billowing smoke and large amount of people. He suddenly felt very small. How would he ever find Harry Potter in all this? And even if he did, what could the boy who lived ever see in someone as ordinary as Ron? Feeling disheartened, and unable to spot any of his brothers, he hung back to wait for his mum.

"There you are, dear," Mrs. Weasley called, emerging from the smoke with Ginny in tow. She looked slightly frantic, but her face softened as she spotted the anxious expression Ron was wearing. "It's normal to be a little nervous your first year, Ronnie. Just don't get involved in any of Fred and George's mischief and you'll do just fine." She swept him up in a hug, and Ron decided not to correct her. Truth be told, he wasn't nervous about Hogwarts at all. From everything his brothers had told him, it seemed like one of the greatest places on earth: living in a dorm with your mates, house elves to cook and clean, Quidditch, what could be better? Sure, there were some classes too, and homework, but he could deal with that in exchange for all of the good things. "No matter where you're sorted," Mrs. Weasley continued, "Dad and I will be proud of you."

Sorting…right. That was another story. For the first time, his thoughts were pulled away from the Great Harry Potter search. Both sides of his entire family had been Gryffindors for generations. What if he was the one to break the streak? What if he wound up a Hufflepuff, or worse, a Slytherin? He was glad when the twins reappeared, thinking it would take his mum's attention off of him, but he was mistaken. Without warning, she leaned over and began attacking him with her handkerchief, mumbling something about how he had some dirt on his nose. Ron jerked away quickly, scrambling to free himself. He couldn't believe that she would do something like that to him, here, in public. Harry could even be watching. Ron quickly glanced around again, trying to see if anyone outside of his family had spotted his scene of embarrassment as the twins taunted his obvious discomfort.

"Shut up," he muttered as Percy approached. As the twins switching to mocking Percy, Ron was able to resume his scanning of the platform, but he didn't have much hope. If Harry were here, Ron would have heard about it by now. There would be whispers and a crowd gathered round, but there was nothing like that. Where could he be? Was it possible that Harry had his own personal way of getting to Hogwarts? Or maybe he was so advanced that he didn't even need to attend Hogwarts at all. This was shaping up to be one of the most disappointing days of his life. Giving up, Ron turned his attention to his trunk and began to half-heartedly tug it toward the train.

"Hey Mum, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train?" Ron heard Fred say.

"You know that black-haired boy who was near us in the station? Know who he is? _Harry Potter!"_

Ron dropped his trunk and turned back to see the twins giving him knowing looks. After living with them for so long, Ron could tell when they were just messing with him, but this time, they didn't seem to be kidding. A million thoughts raced through his mind as he heard Ginny squeal something about wanting to go on the train and see him. Ron missed the rest of the conversation as he was craning his neck, hoping to get another glimpse of the boy from the station. He racked his brain for any details he could remember and kicked himself for not being friendlier. All he could remember was that the boy was awfully small and scrawny and had been dressed in Muggle clothes that seemed to be several sizes too large. He was nothing like what Ron had imagined.

A whistle sounded, bringing him back to the present. "Hurry up!" his mother called. Fred and George picked up Ron's trunk and the three of them clambered onto the train. Ron leaned out the window to say goodbye to his mum and sister, but he could barely focus.

_Harry Potter is on this train_.

As the train began to move, Ron slid inside, closing the door behind him. "Well?" Fred said turning to his youngest brother, "are you just going to stand there? Harry Potter, the bloke you haven't shut up about for seven years is sitting alone, two compartments down. What are you going to do about it?"

"Shut up," Ron muttered again. He could feel his ears burning bright red.

"What's the matter, ickle Ronniekins? Worried your hero won't like you?" Ron ducked his head, his ears burning all the brighter. That was _exactly_ it actually. After all those years of wishing for this moment, Ron couldn't do it.

"Oh come on. You'll never get into Gryffindor, courage like that," George added, giving Ron a small push down the corridor. "Don't be a prat. He seemed nice enough. Plus he was alone on the platform and he's alone now. He'll probably be glad to have someone to talk with. Just go say hello."

Ron swallowed and nodded his head quickly, but he couldn't force himself to move. "C-could you come with me?" he asked his brothers in a small voice.

Fred sighed loudly, "Go on, future Hufflepuff. George and I will come by in a minute to make sure you're all right."

Ron was too nervous to even turn and scowl at his brothers. Besides, they had a point. If he wanted to be in Gryffindor like the rest of his family, he'd have to start acting a little braver. Leaving his trunk with the twins and adjusting Scabbers on his shoulder, Ron lifted his chin up high and made his way resolutely down the corridor.

* * *

_"Hey Mom, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train?"_

_"You know that black-haired boy who was near us in the station? Know who he is?"_

"_Harry Potter!"_

-dialogue taken from page 96-97 of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (U.S. Edition).


	4. Letter Home

It had been a perfectly lovely day. In honour of the first Saturday of term, Ron had a bit of a lie-in, getting up just in time to make it downstairs for a late breakfast. He and Harry had spent the few hours between breakfast and lunch wandering around the lake, chucking in bits of toast to feed the giant squid. They met up with two of their dormmates, Dean and Seamus, at lunch, and the four of them spent the afternoon exploring the grounds.

Now, it was after dinner, and Ron was sprawled out on a sofa in the common room. He was perfectly content to spend the evening here, watching Dean and Seamus attempt to build card houses with a deck of Seamus's exploding playing cards.

"Reckon we should get started on that transfiguration homework?" Harry asked without enthusiasm.

Ron groaned in response, casting a look at the boy sitting on the other end of the sofa, "Why did you have to mention homework. I was having such a good day."

Harry shrugged, getting to his feet. "Sorry, it's just that we have that assignment due for potions, too, and reading for charms and herbology, and I haven't started any of it."

Ron hadn't started any of it either, but that didn't mean that he wanted to dedicate his first Saturday night of term to his text books. Still, he followed Harry up the stairs to their dorm to get his things. "I can't believe McGonagall gave us so much already. It's only the first week!"

Harry mumbled agreement, and the two of them grabbed their bags and returned to the common room, this time choosing a table along the wall. Ron glanced around the room. Dean and Seamus were still playing with the exploding cards, though from the looks of Seamus's hair, the cards had gone off on him more than once already. His brothers, Fred and George, were telling some sort of story to a crowd of laughing, older students. A group of girls was sitting in one of the corners, giggling and pouring over a stack of magazines. Scattered about the room were smaller groups of students playing wizard chess or gobstones or just chatting with one another. Ron moaned again. He knew that he should work on his school work, but he couldn't bear the idea of doing it when everyone else was having fun.

Just then, he was struck by an idea. "You know," he said, nonchalantly, "I should probably write a letter to Mum. She worries, you know." He wasn't much of a fan of letter writing, but it had to be better than school work. He looked across the table to where Harry was sitting. "Have you written to your family at all?"

Harry shrugged in response. "The Dursleys aren't very fond of owl post, or of me for that matter. They're probably only worried that something will go wrong and I'll show up earlier than next summer."

Harry's matter-of-fact speech made Ron feel a bit uncomfortable. How could Harry Potter's family not care about him? He figured Harry was just exaggerating and turned his attention to the parchment in front of him.

_Dear Mum, Dad, and Ginny,_

_Hogwarts is pretty great so far. The food is almost as good as yours, Mum._

There, that was a good start. He ran the quill through his fingers, trying to decide what else to say.

_You probably heard from Percy that I got sorted into Gryffindor. There are four other boys in my dorm. They all seem alright. _

He glanced across the table to where Harry was sitting. The other boy seemed focused on reading his Transfiguration text, but Ron pulled the parchment a little closer to himself before writing this next part anyway.

_Guess who I sat next to on the train…Harry Potter! For real, Ginny! Fred and George weren't kidding when they said they had met him. He has the lightning scar and everything. Harry got sorted into Gryffindor, too, so we've been spending loads of time together. _

Ron glanced up to ensure that Harry wasn't paying him any attention and wrapped his arm around the letter to better hide it from view.

_He's not at all what I expected. He doesn't seem to be super powerful or anything. He said that he didn't even know he was a wizard until he got his letter! His Muggle relatives never told him anything about Hogwarts or magic or You-Know-Who, can you believe it? He's pretty normal, really, but a lot of the other kids still stare at him a lot. I think it kind of bugs him._

The sound of a throat being cleared caused Ron to look up guiltily, afraid that he had been caught. Standing there was none other than the annoying, bushy-haired girl they had first met on the Hogwarts Express, and she wasn't paying Ron the slightest bit of attention.

"Hi, Harry. I see you're working on the transfiguration homework. I finished that ages ago, so if you need any help…" she trailed off.

Harry shot a look to Ron, seeming unsure of how to react. "No…I, er, I think I've got it, thanks."

"All right then. I just thought I'd offer," she responded, seeming a bit disappointed. She then turned her attention to Ron. "You should get started on the homework, too, you know." With that, she strode off across the common room. Ron stared at her, dumbfounded as she settled herself at a table in the corner and pulled a massive book out of her bag. It looked like a school book, but it was far thicker than any of the standard first year ones.

"What was that about?" Harry asked in confusion.

Ron shrugged in response, turning his attention back to his own table. "Beats me. A bit too keen on school work, that one."

Harry nodded in agreement, then with a sigh, picked back up the book he had been reading.

_Harry's not the only one I met on the train. There was a really bossy girl named Hermione Granger who barged into our compartment and started going on about how she had read all of the text books already. I only know her name because she ended up in Gryffindor too, and I've heard the teachers call on her about 100 times a day. _

Ron spared another glance across the common room. Hermione was still there, sitting at her table alone, curled over the massive book she was reading. Ron shook his head and returned to his letter.

_But Hermione wasn't the worst of it. A prat named Draco Malfoy came into our compartment and tried to make friends with Harry. He told Harry that he should be careful not to make friends with the wrong sort of person and tried to shake his hand. But Harry told him he could choose his own friends, and Malfoy turned red and left. _

Ron decided to leave out the bit about Scabbers biting one of Malfoy's cronies. He had a feeling his mother wouldn't react positively to that news. After a moment of thought, Ron added:

_He got sorted into Slytherin of course. As if Harry Potter would ever be friends with some slimy git from Slytherin. _

Re-reading the last paragraph, Ron beamed down at the parchment. He couldn't put it in a letter, but it had felt really good to see Harry stand up to Malfoy. It was the only time since they had met that Ron had gotten so much as a glimpse of the Harry he had imagined in the stories. The more time they spent together, the more Ron found himself forgetting that Harry was famous. It was only when he thought of that moment with Malfoy on the train that he remembered that this was the same Harry Potter that he had grown up listening to stories about. The same Harry that he had play acted as on multiple occasions. Ron certainly hoped Harry never found out about _that_.

If Ron were being honest, thinking about that moment on the train felt good for another reason. After all, he had decided to be Harry's friend long before the two ever met, but it seemed that now that they had, Harry was actually choosing him back.

By this time, Harry had put down the book and was scribbling away at his own roll of parchment, so Ron figured he should probably wrap up the letter and get started on his own essay.

_Harry also introduced me to Hagrid. He's the gamekeeper here and he's enormous! Harry knew him because Hagrid is the one who took him to buy his school things in Diagon Alley._

He paused for a moment. Why hadn't Harry's relatives taken him to Diagon Alley? Plenty of other Muggle parents took their children there every year. He thought about asking Harry about it, but decided not to. Harry didn't seem to like talking about his aunt and uncle very much.

_I should probably get started on this Transfiguration essay that McGonagall assigned (two whole feet and it's only the first week!) but I wanted to write to you to let you know that everything is fine, so you can stop worrying, Mum. _

He scrawled his name at the bottom of the page and rolled it up tightly. In writing the letter, Ron was beginning to realize that he didn't really know Harry at all. Sure, he knew the stories better than anyone, but this Harry sitting across from him didn't really seem to fit those stories.

"Finished?" Harry asked, looking up from his parchment. "You can borrow Hedwig to send it if you want. She'd probably love a job."

"Thanks, I'll send it tomorrow," Ron replied, "it's getting close to curfew and I don't fancy getting caught by Filch twice in one week."

Harry grimaced, presumably at the memory of the telling off they had received early that week when they accidently tried to get through the door to the out of bounds corridor, but it changed to a grin as he met Ron's eye.

Ron grinned back at him. Maybe it didn't matter if Harry seemed different than the stories. He was still sitting across the table from his hero, and they were well on their way to becoming friends.

"So," Ron said, finally opening his transfiguration text, "how'd you start your essay?"


End file.
